


® | THE BLACK TENTS 


A PLAY 
of life among the Bedouins in Syria 


By FLORENCE 'CRANNELL MEANS 


Price, Twenty-five Cents 


® Printed for the Woman’s Foreign Missionary 
Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church 


by 


FRIENDSHIP PRESS 
150 FIFTH AVENUE 
NEW YORK 


CHARACTERS & 





Isranim (Ib-ra-heem’) } Bedouin boys of Junior age 
Jipry 
Yaxos (Yah-ko-be’), younger brother of Ibrahim 


ZARISEH (Za-ree-sa), Junior-age girl, sister of Ibrahim 
and Yakob 


SaDA, little sister of Ibrahim, Yakob, and Zariseh (a very 
small girl if possible) 

SYRIAN GIRL 

SyRIAN BOY 

GREEK GIRLS and BOYS 

RUSSIAN GIRLS and Boys 

SYRIAN GIRLS and Boys 


as many as desired for 
a picturesque effect 





Copyright, 1926, by 
HERBERT L. HILL 


Printed in the United States of America 


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Costumes, Stage Setting, and Accessories 


© The Bedouin boys and girls should wear long, loose 
robes reaching almost to the ankle and held in rather 
tightly around the waist with a girdle of cloth; the sleeves 
of the robes are long and not very loose. The boys may 
wear small white rough caps, or the regular Bedouin head- 
dress. This Bedouin head-dress consists of a black, white, 
or bright-colored cloth a yard square, folded and laid on 
the head with a straight edge across the forehead, and 
bound round the head with a tightly rolled black stocking 
(to represent the black coil of hair rope used by the Bed- 
ouins), or with a gay cord. Zariseh’s head-dress may be 
a figured or plain bright cloth wound under her chin or 
tied like a Red Cross nurse’s head-dress. Sada may go 
bare-headed, or wear a scarf like Zariseh’s. All may wear 
light tan stockings with no shoes if they prefer not to go 
barefoot; or “mules” (heelless bedroom slippers) may be 
worn. The clothing of Ibrahim, Yakob, and Jidry should 
be of varied colors. 

The Syrian girls’ costume is comprised of a robe like 
that of the Bedouins, gay-colored and clean; a white or 
bright-colored coif put on like that of a Red Cross nurse; 
red “mules” or no shoes at all; and necklaces, bracelets, 
and anklets. The Syrian boys wear similar robes, and red 
felt caps of the fez variety. 

The Greek boys may wear plain long trousers (overalls 
would serve) and blouses over them, extending half-way 
to the knees and belted at the waist. The Greek girls may 

&) wear long dresses, full of skirt and tight of belt, and 
shawls over their heads. 

The Russian boys may wear long trousers with smocks 
over them, and rough caps. The Russian girls may wear 
full skirts, white blouses with bodices or small shoulder- 
shawls, and shawls over their heads. 

A tan floor covering may be used to represent the 
desert (burlap, canvas, or a tan rug). If a back curtain 
is used, it may be of blue to simulate sky. A Bedouin 


3 


tent is to be represented by a large piece of black or dark 
brown cloth, raised on rough supports. If the play is to 
be given outdoors, poles may be easily thrust into the 
ground to form the framework, and if indoors, a simple 
frame can be nailed together (using two five-foot front 
posts set six feet apart and connected at the top with a 
six-foot piece of wood; two two-foot back posts set six 
feet apart and connected at the top with a six-foot piece 
of wood; and slanting five-foot pieces extending from the 
tops of the front posts to the tops of the back posts; thus 
forming a frame of lean-to effect). The tent cloth is 
stretched over this, reaching to the ground at the sides 
and back, and left open in front. If it should prove im- 
possible to put up a frame, something can be devised from 
clothes-horses, or as a last resort, even a pair of chairs 
may be used as a support for the tent cloth, as the Bed- 
ouin tents are sometimes very low and small. 


FRONT TOP 


6 FEET 





REAR TOP 


5 FEET 


ZFEET 


View of Tent from Fear 





Inside the tent, which faces the front of the stage and is 
set back five feet or so from the front, a medley of articles 
should be scattered: a water-jar, an earthenware bowl, a 
wooden chopping-bowl, baskets, and a roll of quilts. A 
litter of dried grass, stubble, and brush (firewood is very 
scarce) in front of the tent will suggest a fire. It would 
be very effective to make a flour-mill of the kind used in 
Bible times and to this day, and if there are available boys 
taking cement work in school the making of a mill would 
be a simple matter. The two halves of a round cheese 
box could be used as a foundation (for the sake of light- 
ness), a hole being left in the center of the upper one to 
slip over an iron bar extending upward from the center of 
the lower one, and a vertical handle being set near the 
edge of the top stone, for turning it round. 

All the costumes and accessories described above may 
be elaborated or simplified according to the materials 
available; but their informative value will of course be 
much greater if they are kept as true to fact as possible. 


THE BLACK TENTS 


As the scene opens, Ibrahim and Yakob are to be seen 
in the foreground, playing Blind Man’s Buff. Zariseh 
sits in the tent grinding at the mill or watching the 
boys. Sada runs out of the tent and between the two 
boys. 

IBRAHIM: (Pulling the dark handkerchief from his eyes) 

There are too many folks going to the Holy Sepulchre 
today. We’re likely to get knocked down by a camel 
and hurt worse than that silly Sada. Here, you Sada, 
stop running so! If you tumble down, you'll be crying 
all night with your arm. 
Sada runs back to the tent, and crouches beside Za- 
risch. A Syrian boy and girl—more if deswed—walk 
past, carrying unlighted candles. They stare at the 
Bedouin children as they pass. 

IBRAHIM: Where do you live, you boy? 

SyRIAN Boy: Up yonder in Nazareth. Where do you? 

IBRAHIM: (Boastfully) Me? I live from Damascus to the 
Persian Gulf—wherever it pleases us and our camels 
and sheep to wander. 

SyRIAN Boy: (Haughtily) I am no wandering gipsy. My 
father’s house is the finest on Nazareth’s hills. 

InrRAHIM: Ho! Who wants to be fastened to the ground 
like an olive tree? (He chants loudly.) 

My house is a bundle I bear on my back; 
Whenever night comes, I my bundle unpack! 
Syrian boy hurries off stage, as if to overtake com- 

panions. 

Yaxos: But why do they all carry candles in the daytime, 
Ibrahim? 








ZARISEH : (Eagerly coming forward) This is the day they 
say the holy fire comes down and— 

IspRAHIM : Who asked you, dog of a girl? (Turns his back 

on her with a lordly air. She returns, shrinkingly, to 
the tent.) What does a girl know about it? This is 
the day the fire comes down into their temple, Yakob; 
and they all want to light their candles by it. The dogs 
of Christians! Take care they don’t touch you as they 
go by, or look at you with the evil eye. 
The Greeks enter, followed by the Russians, all unth 
candles in their hands. They pass across the stage 
and out at the other side. The children huddle back 
near the tent and stare at them. 

Yaxos: What kind of people are those, Ibrahim? 

IBRAHIM: You don’t know any more than a goat, do you? 

Yakos: But—Ibrahim! Our father hadn’t pitched his 
tents by the Jerusalem gates before—oh, not since I was 
as little as Sada, I guess. 

IBRAHIM: (Strutting a little) And I, Ibrahim, have 
camped by Jerusalem and Nazareth and Bethlehem and 
Antioch and Damascus. 

Yaxkos: But I don’t believe you know what those people 
were, yourself. 

IBRAHIM: Of course I know! The first ones were Greek 
infidels, and the last were Russians. Crazy ones! They 
come miles upon miles upon miles from their own 
homelands to visit the Sepulchre they call holy. 

Yaxos: Why do they call it holy? 

IBRAHIM: Because they say their prophet, Jesus, was 
_ buried there. It’s just the way we Moslems like to go 
~ to Mecca. But there’s no use along so much. Let’s 
play something. 

Yaxos: Leap-frog? 

Yakob gets down on his hands and knees and Ibra- 
him jumps over him and then saunters on disgustedly. 


rf 


IBRAHIM: No fun in that. 

Jidry enters from the right as they talk, stands on one 
foot, glances in their direction and away again. 

Yaxos: Want to play Pebble, Pebble, Who’s Got the 
Pebble, then? 

IBRAHIM: Great sport Kubby Mukhzinak would be, with 
only two of us to play! 

Yaxkos: Why don’t we call that boy over there? 

They all turn and look at Jidry, the girls joining the 
two boys. 

Yaxos: I wonder who he is? It seems as if I’d seen him 
before. 

ZARISEH : (Timidly) He looks a little bit like Jidry—that 
boy who camped near us one summer in the desert. 

IpRAHIM: (Laughing loudly) If that isn’t just like a girl 
—a stupid donkey of a girl! Did you ever see Jidry in 
fine clean clothes? More likely this is a sheikh’s son. 
Jidry! Oho! Don’t you remember Jidry’s feet? They 
were worse than Sada’s arm, even. They turned right 
in to say how-do-you-do to each other, and he could 
hardly walk without falling down. And this boy’s legs 
are as straight as anybody’s. Jidry! Jidry! (He puts 
his hands on his hips and shakes with exaggerated 
laughter. Ashe says the name, the other boy smiles and 
comes toward them.) 

Jipry: Did you call me? I thought it was you, but I was 
just trying to be sure of it. Hello, Ibrahim! ’Lo, 
Yaxkos! ’Lo, Zariseh and Sada! 

The other children all retreat a little, and look him up 
and down in amazement. 

IpRAHIM: But you aren’t Jidry. Jidry’s clothes— 

Yaxkos: But you can’t be Jidry. Jidry’s feet— 

Jipry: But Iam Jidry, all the same! (He marches up and 
down in front of them, fingering his robe proudly.) 








. 


IBRAHIM: (Frightened) Wh-hat happened? Were you 
magicked by the jinns? 
Jipry: No, I wasn’t magicked. It’s a long story. 


He sits down, cross-legged, and the others group 
themselves round him. Zariseh sits by Ibrahim, but 
he pinches her arm, and she steals over beside Jidry, 
who does not molest her. Sada leans against Zart- 
seh’s shoulder, holding her right arm wrth the other 
hand, as tf it hurt. 

Jwry: It was two years ago next fall, I think, that it all 
began. My father kept going south—and south—and 
south, to find good grazing for the sheep, and good 
wells, too. And by and by we met the foreign doctor 
from the mission hospital at Bahrein. I liked that for- 
eign doctor as soon as my eyes rested on him; and he 
liked me. And he said I was the beginning of a fine 
man, and it would be too bad for me to go stumbling 
all my life. Well, and after a while he said if my 
father would take me down to the mission hospital they 
could give me a straight pair of legs. And they did! 

Yaxkos: How—how’d they do it? Did they cut them off 
and sew on new ones? How—where did they get the 
new ones? 

Jipry: (Laughing) My, no! These are my same old legs, 
made over like new. And I can tell you it took the 
doctors a good long time to get them mended. Why, 
they’ve only just finished with me now. 

ZARISEH: And did it—hurt? 

Jipry: Ummm! It hurt all right enough! It hurt till I 
had to shut my teeth hard—like this—to keep from cry- 
ing like a girl. But it was worth it, just to be in that 
clean white hospital place and have the good things to 
eat. Sometimes I did get tired of their soft white beds 
and wish I could be out on our desert with nothing all 
round me but sky; I guess all the desert people feel that 
way. But the good things to eat! Three dinners every 


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day! Melons and lettuce and onions and cauliflower 
and dates and honey and cheese and rice. And meat! 
Meat every—single—day ! 

The others hold up their hands and look thetr amaze- 
ment. 

IBRAHIM : I should think you’d be so fat you’d have to roll 
like a ball. Meat every day! We’re glad enough to 
have it once a year, when one of the camels gets too old 
to work and is good for nothing but eating. Especially 
now, when my father’s sheep have all died. But—meat 
every day! (He shakes his head incredulously.) 

Sapa: (Wistfully) I don’t remember when we’ve had any- 
thing more than lebben and rice and dates. I can’t 
think what the other things taste like. 

Jipry: And they were so kind. They didn’t beat even the 
girls! And clean! Why, we washed all over, two or 
three times a week, even when there wasn’t a speck of 
dirt on us. 

IsrAHIM: (Scornfully) That’s nothing but foolishness! 
Zariseh spreads her brown, soiled hands, and looks at 
them wistfully. 

Jipry: Yes, maybe it is; but you’ve no idea how good it 
makes you feel—all happy and singy. Clean clothes are 
fine, too. (Strokes his robe.) But it’s going to be hard 
to keep clean when I get home again. It isn’t easy on 
the desert, with the wells so few. 


IBRAHIM: I wouldn’t care a bit for that. But the meat— » 


ummm! the meat. 


Jiwry: Yes, and the reading and writing. They taught us 
to read and write. 


Yaxos: Not you? 
Jipry: Yes, me! And to do numbers, too. 


IBRAHIM : Why, even our father doesn’t possess the magic 
of reading and writing! Not even the sheikh! 


Jwry: And they told us stories and taught us songs. 


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ZARISEH: I like songs. I know some, too. Here’s one 
my mother used to sing to Yakob:? 
Good morning now to you, Little Boy! 
Your face is like the dew, Little Boy! 
There never was a child so merry and so mild, 
So good morning once again, Little Boy! 

IBRAHIM: (Bullyingly) You must think we men have time 
to listen to silly girls. Ill tell my father to beat you, 
when he gets home, see if I don’t. 

ZARISEH: My father won’t beat me hard. He likes me, 
even if I ama girl, my father does. When I had fever, 
down on the desert, my mother says he walked up and 
down in front of the tents and wouldn’t sleep. He even 
wanted to carry me miles and miles to the Turkish doc- 
tor at Jidda; but the other men laughed at him for 
making such a fuss about a girl; so of course he didn’t. 
But you see he really likes Sada and me—though of 
course not so well as the boys. 

Jipry: In the mission hospital they say that girls are as 
good as boys—or almost. 

Yaxos: Well, that settles it! They certainly must have 
lost their wits! What kind of stories did they tell you? 
Any new ones? 

Jipry: Yes, new as new could be. One that I liked best 
was about the Good Shepherd. How he loves people 
just as if they were his own sheep. And the lambs are 
us children, and he carries us in his arms—the way 
shepherds always do, you know. And if one of them 
gets bad and does wicked things and wanders away 
from the right paths, the Good Shepherd goes after him 
and gets him, just as my father climbs down the steep 
mountain places to get a sheep that’s lost. And then 
there was a song that went like this: “The Lord is my 
shepherd, I shall not want,” (because the Shepherd 


* Any lullaby tune to which the words may be fitted would be 
effective. 


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takes me where there is food enough, you know). “He 
leadeth me beside the still waters—” 

ZARISEH: (Interrupting eagerly) Just the way our father 
used to do! The poor sheep get so frightened when 
the streams are rough. They are afraid to drink unless 
he finds them a quiet place. 

Jiwry: “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He 
restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of right- 
eousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk 
through the valley of the shadow of death—”’ 

ZARISEH : Oh, where the steep cliffs are! And the wolves! 

Jiwry: “Through the valley of the shadow of death, I will 
fear no evil. For thou art with me. Thy rod and thy 
staff they comfort me.” That’s all I remember of that 
one. 

IBRAHIM: It sounds all very fine, but I don’t see what it 
means. Is the Good Shepherd—maybe—God? Allah? 
I never heard about Allah’s taking such care as that. 

Jipry: No, I didn’t, either, before I went to the hospital. 
But those people seem better acquainted with Him than 
we do. That’s why they made my legs straight. Did 
any of our people care about my crooked feet? Do you 
suppose Mohammed cared about them? Of course not! 
But The-Lord-Is-My-Shepherd—He cared, and that’s 
the reason the foreign doctors mended me. 

IBRAHIM: But who is He? Whois He, that big shepherd 
that carries people like sheep? 

Jipry: They say—yes, and I know it’s true—that He’s 
Allah’s own son—God’s own Son. He’s Jesus. 

At the name, Ibrahim springs to his feet and draws 
away from Jidry, and the others follow his example. 
IBRAHIM: (Speaks loudly and rapidly) There is no God 
but God, and Mohammed is his prophet! Besides, it’s 
nonsense you're talking; Jesus has been dead for years 
and years. How could he be a shepherd now, and take 
care of people the way you said? Why, (points in 


12 








the direction pilgrims took earlier) all day since the ris- 
ing of the sun Syrian infidels and others from beyond 
the sea have been running to his Sepulchre—his grave. 
I wonder you aren’t there yourself, with a candle to 
light at the flame from heaven. Is your doctor there? 
He’s a Christian, isn’t he? 

Jipry: Yes, he’s a Christian. He isn’t there, though; he’s 
looking after the sick people as he always does. 

Yaxos: I thought all Christians went to the Sepulchre on 
Easter Eve. 

Jipry: Not all. I asked the doctor about that. He said 
that many of the Greek Christians, and the Russian, and 
the Syrian, made the pilgrimage. They come because 
their fathers did before them; yes, and their fathers’ 
fathers, I guess. They think God is pleased with them 
for coming. And they think the flame will bring them 
happiness and good, if they can light their candles with 
it. 

ZARISEH : And doesn’t your doctor believe that, too? 

Jipry: No, my doctor says God likes it just as well if we 
stay right where we are and pray to Him; because, 
you see, He’s everywhere. And besides, no one really 
knows that Jesus was buried where they have built the 
temple of the Sepulchre. 

IBRAHIM: I say it’s all nonsense you're talking. 

Jipry: It’s hard to understand it all; but I believe it, for 
the hospital people said so, and they speak the truth. 
They say Jesus was dead and is alive again, and that He 
takes care of us when we ask Himto. He can, because 
He’s God’s own Son. 

TpraHiM : (Still more angrily) There is no God but God! 
Go away, you dog of an infidel! How dare you talk to 
good Moslems of the Christian God? Go, or we’ll stone 
you from our tents! 

Jidry starts slowly away, and Ibrahim shakes his fist 
at him. Yakob imitates Ibrahim. Sada picks up a 


13 


little stick and throws it toward him, then holds her 
arm and cries with pain. Zariseh runs to her. Jidry, 
who has walked slowly away with hanging head, stops 
and looks back. 

ZARISEH : Oh, what shall I do? It’s her poor little arm 
again. 

The brothers bend over her, but Sada pulls away and 
cries. 

Jipry: What’s the matter with her arm? 

ZARISEH: There’s something wrong with the way it 
fastens on her shoulder. She fell off a camel last sum- 
mer, and the camel trod on her. And now she’s 
wrenched it again. 

Jwry: (Coming back and kneeling before the child) Let’s 
see, Little Sister. (He handles the arm carefully.) I 
think—I’m sure my doctor could fix it. 

ZARISEH: Could he? Really? Our doctors cut it to see 
if it wouldn’t straighten when it healed, but it only grew 
worse. See the scar? And they gave her nasty medi- 
cine. But it cost so much my father had to stop trying, 
though he said as soon as there was a chance to get a 
few more goats so he could pay, he would take her to 
another doctor and try again. 

IprAHIM : But if your doctor is beyond the desert-- 

Jiwry: He isn’t! He isn’t! He’s in Jerusalem. He 
brought me with him. 

IBRAHIM: (Extending both hands, palms up, and shrug- 
ging his shoulders) But we have told you we have noth- 
ing left to pay with. Doctors eat up a man’s substance 
as the locusts eat a field, my father says. And this is 
only a girl—though she is little and cunning— 

Jipry: But my doctor is different. Lots of the people they 
cured at the hospital didn’t have anything to pay at all. 
My doctor—you may be angry again—my doctor is a 
Jesus man. 








ZARISEH: (Confidently) I don’t believe they can be so 
very wicked after all, those Christian infidels. I know 
what my father will say when he comes home. He'll 
say, ‘“Anyone is good who will make my baby girl well 
again.” Let’s ask him. 

IpRAHIM: Don’t let’s wait for him to come. It is still 
early in the day and he may tarry till the evening. I 
think he has gone to the market just inside the nearest 
gate. We will go and seek him. 

Ibrahim, Yakob, and Jidry start toward the exit to- 
gether, and Sada takes Zariseh’s hand, urging her on 
after the boys. 

Sapa: Hurry, Sister, hurry! Sada’s arm hurts so hard! 

IBRAHIM: (Smiles back at her) Never you mind, Sada! 
Jidry’s doctor can mend it! You must keep thinking 
about the doctor—and about that big Good Shepherd! 
—And, Jidry, while we’re looking for Father, maybe 
you could tell us—well, some more of those stories 
about The-Lord-Is-My-Shepherd. 


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